


A New Life

by AzzyWinchester



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Past Abuse, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-07-08 05:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19863934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzzyWinchester/pseuds/AzzyWinchester
Summary: Maybe God does exist. Yeah, who'd think someone would say that about being thrust into a alternate reality where blood, gore, and guts are more regular then rain in a forest?





	1. Prologue

_Foster home. Foster home. Foster home._ That's what kept repeating in my head as I was being driven by a police officer named Todd Donovan to the home of strangers. I didn't want to go there, I don't think any sane person would.

You see my adopted dad, Michael Milligan, was, no _is_ a police officer. He got killed in action by a burglar. He got the little boy out of the house safe, but he wasn't so lucky. Now, only eighteen hours after it happened I'm be shipped away to stay with a couple of people whom I have never met.

They're good people. At least that's what the police officers had told me, but I have met many people that come across from the outside like good people, like nice people. But on the inside, not so much. I guess all I can do is pray that things will work out this time.

Officer Donovan pulled the police car up the driveway to the two story, white modern looking house. A man and a woman walked out the front door.

When I didn't climb out of the car Donovan looked back at me and asked, "Something wrong?"

"I don't want to go in there." I told him.

He ran a hand through his short brown hair, "I know Kylie, but you have to."

"Why can't I just stay with you, you were my dad's partner. His friend."

"I would, but you know I don't have the room. I have five kids and my wife to think about, too."

"Please don't make me go in there." I pleaded tears starting to come to my eyes.

"I'm sorry." He said stepping out and opening the door beside me, he held his hand out for me to take.

I grabbed my backpack which held all of my small amount of belongings and climbed out of the car walking to the house not even bothering to say goodbye to Donovan. I walked up to the bottom of the steps and stopped. I looked up at the man and woman in front of me. They looked to be in their 40s or 50s. The man was of medium build maybe six feet tall, he had short black hair and unsettlingly blue eyes with round Harry Potter like glasses. He was wearing brown cowboy boots, blue jeans, and a black t-shirt. I looked over at the woman, she's a short woman about five feet. She had straight platinum blonde hair that went to her shoulders with light brown eyes. She was wearing an orange sundress and black sandals.

"I'm Paula Hendrickson and this is my husband Clark." the woman said in a happy voice, I nodded not saying anything.

"You're Kylie Milligan right?" Clark asked, I nodded again.

"Well, um, come in. Make yourself comfortable." Paula told me as her and her husband walked inside. I sighed and followed suit. We entered a living room with a mounted flat screen TV, a couch and two leather chairs.

"You can explore a little if you want." Clark told me, "We don't have anyone else staying with us right now, well other than you, of course. So you can choose any of the three available bedrooms you want from upstairs." I nodded and made my way over to the stairs and started to walk up.

"Kylie." Paula said before I made it to the top of the stairs.

I looked down at her "Yes ma'am?"

"It's almost 6 o'clock, you can come and ask for food whenever you’re hungry okay?"

I nodded "Thank you." I walked the rest of the way up the stairs and came to a hallway. There was a door slightly ajar at the end which is what looked like a bathroom. I looked in the first door on the right and it appeared to be the master bedroom. I turned and opened the first on the left and saw that it was another bedroom. I didn't want to bother looking at the other rooms so I settled for this one.

It was pretty simple, with pale pink walls, tan carpeting, and two windows. There were two bunk beds and two night stands. I opened the door to the closet, which was pretty small and completely empty. I closed it and sat on the bottom of one of the bunk beds. I touched the cross hanging around my neck. It just seems silly, the prospect of God being real. If He was I'd think that He would have answered any of my prayers in the years that I've been praying. But it was a gift from dad, so sentimental value. I sighed. _'Back where I started'_ I thought dolorously alone.

I must have fallen asleep because I was awoken by a loud thump. I quickly did a quick check of the room. Nothing seemed different. It was dark outside, I looked over at the green light illuminating from a clock on the night stand by my bed. It read 3:46 A.M. 'Joy' I thought wearily as I yawned. I relaxed after a few minutes of silence thinking that I had imagined it. Then it came again.

 _Thump._ Silence. _Thump thump._

I stood up and cautiously walked towards the door. I slowly opened it and peered my head out into the dark hallway. I didn't see anything, I jumped back when I heard it again.

"Mr. Hendrickson!" I called scared "Mrs. Hendrickson!" No reply, I slowly walked over to the door that led to the master bedroom, I opened and looked at the empty bed. I walked away from it and fearfully called "Mr. Hendrickson!" Only this time with more urgency.

 _Thump thump thump._ Silence. _Thump. Thump thump._

I sounded like it was coming from downstairs. I patted my pockets to feel for the pocket knife I always keep on me. I pulled it out of my right pocket and opened it. With my knife in hand I cautiously started walking down the stairs. When I got to the bottom I looked around, it was empty. The TV was on though. It was glowing white. With my heart racing I heedfully walked over to it.

I jumped back when another thump came from the TV. This is stupid I thought bitterly putting my knife back into my pocket. I tried to turn off the television. But as soon as I put my hand on it I felt some kind of force pulling at my hand. I tried to pull back, but the harder I tried the harder it pulled back. I started screaming as my arm entered the screen. Pretty soon there was nothing.

Just darkness. Too much darkness.


	2. Wake Up!

I was lying down now. Why was I lying down? I heard a man talking, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. I opened my eyes, just to close them instantly because the light burned them. I rubbed my eyes as I continued to hear someone talk, still hearing him incoherently. I opened my eyes again, this time it didn't burn so much. I blinked the black spots out of my eyes and looked around.

I was in some kind of hospital. It was pretty trashed, but it was definitely a hospital. I tried to sit up only to have my head feel like someone was hitting it with a sledgehammer. I grabbed my head desperately.

"Slow down." I heard the voice say, only this time more clearly.

My head whipped around to the source of the voice. Andrew Lincoln? Man, what grizzly attacked him? He was in a hospital gown and boxers, with a bandage wrapped around his stomach. I looked at him confusedly as he asked, "Are you alright?"

I shook my head, "I think so." I touched my head and flinched.

"Let me see." He said lightly touching my head indicating me to lower it, which I did. "You have a pretty nasty cut." Andrew Lincoln said; I nodded. From what? When the hell did that happen and when did I get here? "Are you alone?" I looked at him suspiciously, why did this Andrew Lincoln doppelganger need to know that?

"No." I answered as I ran a hand down my face.

He looked slightly relieved, "Who are you with?"

"You." I said standing up a bit shakily, I almost fell, but I grabbed the wall for support.

"I'm Rick Grimes." No. Way. "A sheriff's deputy." He, too, leaned against the wall.

"O-okay. Um, I'm Kylie. Kylie Milligan. If you don't mind, can you remind me where we are?" I asked eyebrows knitted together in confusion and fear.

"You don't remember?" He asked giving me the same look of confusion.

"No." Well, maybe. If this is what I think it might be, then I should be in Harrison Memorial Hospital in Georgia, "If I remembered I wouldn't have asked you to remind me."

"You might be concussed." He said not responding to my previous remark, "Probably have short-term amnesia." he said looking around, "We're in the South Wing Recovery Ward." He answered "Harrison Memorial." Dude, this is insane.

I nodded "This place is kind of creeping me out. So I think I'm going to find a way out." I said as I started to walk towards the door that I'm pretty sure led outside. When I looked through it I jumped back and screamed at what I saw.

It was a corpse. A really nasty, looking like something had been feeding off of it, corpse. Rick limped over and looked through the window, a look of horror passing over his face.

"C-can I stay with you deputy Grimes?" He nodded, "I vote we go the other way." I said slowly walking down the other side of the hall. There were bloody bullet holes in the walls and pools of blood, but it all looked better than that terrifying body in the other room. We walked through a doorway to find a chained up door with the words:

**‘Don't open**  
**Dead inside’**

Then something on the other side of that door started thumping and I heard faint groaning. Then glass shattered from inside and more started pushing on the door. Fingers started sticking through and I tried to hide behind Rick.

"Let's go." Rick said grabbing my arm and limping faster through the door beside the finger-y one. He tried to open the elevator but it didn't work. So he next went to the fire exit and tried that door. It opened. We stepped inside, he closed the door and then it was dark. Mr. Grimes slightly coughed then I heard him light a match and then there was a little bit of light. He coughed more and then the match blew out. He lit another one and we started to slowly walk down the stairs. That match went out and he instantly lit another one, he lifted it a little to reveal a door with the red word 'exit' on it.

I think he burned his finger because he dropped the match with an 'ah' kind of noise. He opened the door and blinding light shone in our faces, making us both guard our eyes and groan. We walked down the steps leading to the ground.

"You’re okay?" he asked looking back at me before continuing.

I nodded. I really wasn't, but at this point I was still trying to process everything, "Are you? You look pretty hurt. What happened?" I already knew the answer to the question but I asked anyway because he doesn't know that I know.

"I'll be fine." He said, even though I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

I looked around and saw corpses, so many bloody corpses; strewn around on the ground in white body bags. There were a lot more in trucks. The smell was horrible and I felt like I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. I wouldn't let myself, so I just hugged my stomach and followed close behind Rick. He looked like he wanted to throw up as he clutched his stomach and stumbled on through the maze of bodies and out the entryway. We stumbled up a hill and found a couple of broken down black helicopter and some jeeps. There were tents and crates and stuff, I guess it was a camp or something.

We kept walking, after a little while of silence we came to a town. I'm pretty sure this is where Rick and his family used to live. Rick spotted a red bicycle. He walked over to it and picked it up.

Oh no, I remember what happens here. I saw the nasty, grey, half of a used to be person lying on the ground a few feet away. It started to hiss and groan making Rick stumble and fall back. I put my hand on the pocket that held my knife.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me away, we started running. Well, as much as we could manage with our injuries, my head was still pounding, and I'm sure he was still hurting like hell with that gunshot wound.

We went a bit further till we reached his house, and he started walking towards it, "Is this your house?" I asked, again already knowing the answer.

"Yeah." he said sprinting through the already open door. "Lori!" he called walking into his wife's and his bedroom. "Carl! Carl!" I just stayed behind at the door. Waiting for him to keep searching his house for his wife and son even though I know they weren't here. "Lori! Carl!" he called out more desperately. I could hear him start to cry, I know how stupid this sounds, but that made me want to cry. But I stopped myself, I wouldn't cry like some kind of baby. He's crying because he can't find his family, I don't have any reason to cry right now. Well, maybe my dad dying like yesterday would be reason enough, but I still won’t, not for Rick’s sake.

He continued to sob in their living room, still calling out for his family. I couldn't just stand there. I started to slowly stalk my way over to his living room. I stood in the doorway for a second, reconsidering going over to him. I decided I couldn't just watch him cry so I cautiously walked over to him and kneeled down. I lightly touched his shoulder which made him slightly flinch.

"I'm sure your family is fine." I tried to say soothingly "They probably just left. Trying to find a safe place to stay, I mean, did you get a look at this neighborhood? Nobodies here. I'm sure they just left with friends or something. I'm confident that they're okay."

He looked at me with tears in his eyes. I started to get scared, did I say something wrong? Oh no I said something wrong. Why did I even come over?

He nodded, wiping his eyes "Do you have any family?"

I shook my head, "No. They died before this all started."

Rick's frown deepened even more, he shakily stood up and he walked out of the house. He stumbled down the steps and sat down.

I leaned against the doorframe on the inside of the house getting a bit dizzy. I looked out the window just thinking for a moment, I just want to tell him what he did in the show. What he's going to still do. I want to tell him everything, and oh no walker. I forgot about him, there was a dead man in a suit limping about twelve feet away from Rick. Mr. Grimes looked at him with new found hope in his eyes. That's when Duane Jones hit him in the head with a shovel.

I screamed and stumbled back. How had I forgotten about Morgan and his son? Duane was yelling at his father that he 'got the sumbitch' as I charged out of the house and ripped the shovel out of his hands before he knew what was happening. I pulled out my pocket knife and opened it, pointing it at Duane threateningly.

"Don't come any closer!" I yelled trying to guard Rick, "No! Stand back." I looked over to see Morgan shoot the walker that Rick was looking at. Which startled me much more than it should have considering that I knew it was coming, but I jumped none the less and let out a "Shit!" Tears started coming to my eyes and for the first time today, I let them fall. What's going to happen to me? Am I going to live? And even if I am, how long will that last? Please let me go back, I pleaded to God.

Morgan went over to Duane and made him back away, he pointed his gun at me and said, "Put the knife down, miss."

I sighed and did as I was told and put it back into my pocket. Really who do you think is going to win, the person with the knife or the person with the gun? I threw the shovel as far away as I could and shot a quick glare at Duane before looking at Morgan again.

Morgan looked at his son with the gun still pointed at me, "Did he say something? I thought I heard him say something."

"He called me Carl."

"Son, you know they don't talk. What's his bandage for?"

"He was shot!" I answered starting to get flustered.

Morgan looked at me like he was contemplating whether or not to believe me, I stole one more glance at Mr. Grimes who had just passed out.

"Did you bandage him?"

"No. A doctor did."

"What happened to your head?" Duane asked.

I touched my head and flinched "I'm not sure. I think I fell."

"Well, come on." Morgan said heaving Rick up, "Let's get you both inside. It isn't safe out here." No. Friggin. Duh.


	3. Do I Even Have a Home?

Morgan had cleaned up my head which had just stopped hurting, but he took away my knife. I kept telling myself I'd have to get it back later. I was sitting beside Rick. He was lying on a bed with floral sheets, his hands and feet were tied to the top and bottom of the bed because the Jones' didn't believe me when I told them he wasn't bit. I was made to sit in a chair beside him with a warning not to move. He started to stir which made me look over at him.

"Mr. Grimes?" I asked.

Morgan looked over from where he was standing and said, "I got that bandage changed now. It was pretty rank. She told me you were shot?" He gestured to me."Do you have any more wounds?"

"Gunshot ain’t enough?" Rick asked with snark.

He walked over to Rick, "Look, I ask and you answer. Common courtesy right?" he leaned down and asked emphatically, "Did you get bit?"

"Bit?" Rick asked confused.

"Bit, chewed, maybe scratched-- Anything like that?"

"No, I got shot. Just shot as far as I know." Dude! Don't give him any other reason to think you're dying!

Morgan reached his hand towards Rick's face making him flinch, "Hey, just let me." He said touching his forehead, "Feels cool enough." he said looking over at his son. "Fever would have killed you by now."

"I don't think I have one."

"Be hard to miss." he pulled out his pocket knife, opened it and put it in Rick's face, "Take a moment, look at how sharp it is. You try anything, and I will kill you with it. And don't you think I won't." He cut his binding "Come on out when your able." Rick rubbed his wrists as Morgan walked over to his son "You can leave whenever you're ready." He said looking at me, "Come on." He said to Duane

I just stayed with Rick, not really wanting to go out there until he does. We just stayed there in silence for a few moments, "You alright?" He finally asked.

I nodded, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess." He looked at me for another moment, "You sure you're okay?" I glared at him for a second then lowered my eyes to my lap.

"Honestly," I looked him in the eye, "I don't know. But right now, I have to be." I sighed, "I trust you. But I don't know yet about them." Lie. I know they're fine people. But, if it was someone I truly didn't trust, I wouldn't want them seeing any weakness from me.

He slowly sat up and gave me a hard look, "Kylie, it's alright not to be okay-"

I just scoffed and rolled my eyes, "Bro! Don't give me the dad talk. I'm fine. It's fine. Just, come on." I said standing up.

He slowly stood up and wrapped a tan blanket around his shoulders, I followed him as he lead the way through the house. We walked into a kitchen, the windows covered with black blankets. I heard a spoon or something scraping against a pot.

Morgan walked over to us, "This place-- Fred and Cindy Drake's? Never met ‘em."  
Rick looked around, "I've been here. This is their place." Yeah, that's exactly what Morgan said, thanks.

"It was empty when we got here." Morgan said as Rick walked over to one of the blanket covered windows and was about to open it before Morgan stopped him by saying, "Don't do that. They'll see the light. There's more of them out there than usual. I never should have fired that gun today. Sound draws them. Now they're all over the street." He set the pot on the table. "Stupid-- using a gun." I sat down at one of the chairs, "But it all happened so fast, I didn't think." Morgan did the same and sat down.

"You shot that man today." Rick looked at Morgan in disbelief.

"Man?"

Duane cut in "It weren't no man."

Morgan turned toward his son "What the hell was that out of your mouth just now?"

"It _wasn't_ a man." Duane said.

"You shot him in the street out front-- a man." Rick said. Oh Mr. Grimes, I forgot how little you knew at first. I sighed kind of tuning out the rest of the conversation, because I already know everything they're talking about. I looked up when they said they were going to pray. We all held hands and Morgan said grace.

"Lord, we thank thee for this food, thy blessings, and we ask you to watch over us in these crazy days. Amen." We all started to eat, "Are you her father?" Morgan asked. Father? What? no. I mean that would be awesome, but no.

"No." Rick said, "We're not related."

"When did you two meet?"

"This morning." Rick told him.

"She acts like she's known you for a while." Morgan said now looking at me.

I shrugged, "I barely know this man." Lie, I know everything about the renowned Rick Grimes, "But I can tell he's a good enough man."

"How?" Duane asked.

I shrugged again, "I'm usually a pretty good judge of character." They nodded.

"Do you even know what's going on mister?" Morgan asked now looking at Rick.

"I woke up today in the hospital, found Kylie unconscious on the hospital floor, came home and that's all I know."

"But you know about the dead people right?"

"Yeah, I saw a lot of that-- Out on the loading dock, piled in trucks."

"No. Not the ones they put down. The ones they didn't--The walkers, like the one I shot today. Cause he have ripped into you, tried to eat you. Taken some flesh at least." Oh, this talk is making me feel sick. I leaned back in my chair and continued to listen to the conversation I already knew, "Well, I guess if this is the first you're hearing of it. I know how it must sound." Yeah! It sounds insane! Just yesterday I was grieving the loss of my dad and now I'm in the world of zombies! Zombies!

"They're out there now, in the street?"

"Yeah, they get more active after dark sometimes. Maybe it's the cool air or-- hell, maybe it's me firing that gun today. But we'll be fine as long as we stay quite. Probably wonder off by morning. But listen, one thing I do know-- don't you get bit. I saw your bandage and that's what we were afraid of. Bites kill you."

I shuddered, I used to always think if I was in a world like this, amidst zombies or walkers or biters or deaders or whatever you want to call them, that I would die so fast, that I wasn't strong enough for a world like this. But maybe, just maybe, since I know what's going to happen. Who to trust, I can survive. At least for a little while, I just have to try to stick with Rick and the rest of the group.

I touched my necklace which was hidden underneath my shirt and frowned, I wish dad was here though, I would feel a lot safer if he were here. But I'll never see him again, never. Even if I make it back home, he'll always be gone.

But do I even have a home anymore?

I looked up puzzled when I heard Morgan ask, "Are you alright?"

That's when I realized I was crying, how had I not noticed I was crying? I wiped my eyes and nodded, "Just thinkin'."

"About what?"

I shook my head, "Everything."


	4. Night, y'all!!!

After we finished eating we went and sat down in the living area. Rick, whom was still wrapped up in his blanket, was leaning against the couch. Morgan was leaning against the wall on a mattress and Duane was laying down beside him. I sat down on the couch to Rick's left with my legs crossed.

I'm not sure how much sleep I'm going to get tonight. After everything that has happened and what is happening I'm finding it hard to just sit still. I yawned as I put my elbow on the arm rest and put my head in my hand.

Morgan broke the silence by saying, "Carl-- He your son?" Rick turned his head toward him, "Well you said his name today."

"He's a little younger than your boy." Rick responded.

"And he's with his mother?"

"I hope so."

"And what about you?" Morgan asked looking at me now, "You have any family?"

I sighed and shook my head, "My... Uh, my dad..." Damnit, my voice cracked as I thought about him, "He..." I sighed, "No sir." I touched the necklace and took a deep breath. I felt like crying. I really did. I missed dad and I just wanted to be with him right now and not in this zombie infested world.

"It's alright." Morgan said sparing me a small smile, "You don't have to talk about it." Another sigh escaped me again as I nodded. I was grateful for that.

"Dad?" A sleepy sounding Duane said.

Morgan put his hand on his son's head, "Hey."

"Did you ask him?"

Morgan lightly chuckled, "Your gunshot-- We've got a little bet going. My boy says you're a bank robber."

"Yeah, that's me, the deadliest Dillinger. Kapow." Rick chuckled, answering playfully, "Sheriff's Deputy." I couldn't help but chuckle myself.

Morgan nodded, "Uh-huh."

A car alarm started to blare and Duane shot up from his half asleep laying position. I couldn't help but jump myself.

"Hey it's okay daddy's here." Morgan said putting his hands on Duane's shoulders, "It's nothing. One of them must've bumped a car."

"Are you sure?" Rick asked looking like he was about ready to jump up.

"It happened once before." Morgan told him, "It went on for a few minutes." He grabbed his gun and both him and Rick stood up, "Get the light, Duane." Morgan told his son. I sighed. Things are about to get dark.

Duane turned off the lantern by him and Rick turned off another one that was on a desk. I stayed silent as I watched Morgan go over to the window and peer through the blanket.

"It's the blue one on the street, the same one as last time." Morgan said moving out of the way so that Rick could look out the window, "I think we're okay."

"That noise-- Won't it bring more of them?" Rick asked. Duane walked over to them and looked outside also. I stood up also and just kind of stood to the side of the window out of the sight of the walkers. I didn't want them seeing me and I definitely didn't want to see them.

"Nothing we can do about it now." Morgan replied, "Just have to wait 'em out till morning."

Duane gasped, "She's here." His mom. I can't even imagine how hard this is for him and for his father. I can't even imagine what it would be like to see dad like that. It would break me.

"Don't look. Get away from the windows." Morgan said. When Duane didn't move Morgan touched his shoulder and gave him a slight boost, "I said go. Go on." He followed his son away from the windows.

Duane collapsed onto the makeshift bed that they had been on only moments ago and started to sob. Morgan held him as he spoke soothing things into this son's ear.

I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my tangled hair as I sat back down on the couch. Rick looked out of the front doors peep hole and walked back and sat down in front of the couch after the door handle started to move.

"She um, she died in that other room on that bed in there." Morgan said. Both Rick and I looked over at him. The man sounded close to tears, "There was nothing I-- I could do about it. That fever, man, her skin gave off a heat like a furnace. I should've put her down, man. I should've put her down. I thought, but I-- You know what? I just didn't have it in me." He wiped his eyes, "She's the mother of my child." Rick looked back over to the door as the handle kept rattling.

I wasn't sure what to say or if I should say anything. This is a terrible and scary world and people die. I know that. So many people die every day and there is nothing anybody can do about it. Nobody.

I just kind of fell back over on the couch and closed my eyes. This is all just terrible. I really didn't want to talk and if I continued watching them I was sure I was going to cry too. So I did my best to fall asleep.

\--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+

I don't know what time it was when I woke up the first time. It was dark though. I looked around the room half expecting to be back at that foster home, but I wasn't. I was still here in the TV show I used to enjoy watching. The three other people still looked sound asleep.

I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. My mind kept going back to everything that has happened today. From waking up in that hospital to seeing that half eaten person in the hallway. The smell of all those dead people outside. I could still smell it. That gray zombie that was half of a man. That was haunting my thoughts.

At least I'm here with Rick though. I could have woken up anywhere, with anyone. I'm really glad it was him. I know what's going to happen. Well, some anyway. I've only seen up to the episode after Shane killed Otis. I do know some about their time in the prison. But that doesn't add up to a lot if you think about how much I haven't seen.

But maybe since I know what's going to happen for at least a bit I can live for a little while. By that point I might have enough experience to survive from then on out. I might be able to do this, to live and survive. But I might not. Even if I have some knowledge, that doesn't mean I'm strong enough to live in this world. To live through the horrors and the pain that comes with it.

I opened my eyes and ran a hand down my face. I stood up from the couch, careful not to step on Rick. That would be bad. I started to walk aimlessly through the house. Not really paying attention to anything in particular. I just needed to clear my head. Walks have always helped me with that.

Then my mind drifted to Jeremy. I touched the scar on my back as I thought about him. I wouldn't wish death on anybody but him. That bastard can rot in hell for all I care. I hope I never have to see the man who 'raised' me for the first thirteen years of my life ever again. Because if I did? I don't know if I could stop myself from stabbing him in the eye with a crowbar.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped so high I might have hit the ceiling.

"Whoa, whoa. It's just me." I heard the voice of Rick say.

I let out a sigh of relief, "You scared the crap out of me." I told him.

He slightly smiled, "Sorry. What are you doing up?"

I shook my head, "Couldn't sleep. My minds racing and I'm feeling kind of jittery. Did I wake you?"

"No." He replied. I probably woke him up, "Do you need to talk about it?"

"No." I answered simply, not at all wanting to talk about what was on my mind.  
"Do you remember how you got to the hospital?"

"No. I wish I did, but I don't."

Rick nodded, "You should try and get some sleep. I'm sure that you'll remember soon enough."

"Yeah, I'm sure." I answered. We quietly walked back to the living area and laid back down careful, trying not to disturb the other two.

I closed my eyes and thought about the good times I had with my dad. When we’d take walks in the park. Birds chirping. Warm breeze. Grass rustling. Within a few minutes I was out cold.


	5. The Sheriff's Station

The next morning they had decided to go to Rick's house. Rick grabbed a bat and Morgan grabbed a crowbar. We were about to step outside when I remembered something.

"Can I have my knife back?" I asked Morgan. He has to believe that I'm not going to try and stab him or anything now, right? He hesitated but nodded and pulled it out of his back pocket. I took it and Rick opened the front door.

I opened the blade, "We're sure they're dead." Rick said, "I have to ask this one more time."

I rolled my eyes, "Yes they're dead!" I answered exasperatedly. Come on man, get the memo.

Morgan sighed, "Yeah, except for something in the brain. That's why it has to be the head." Yup. You can't just hit it in the heart and have it stay dead. You have to disconnect the brain stem; or you know, something like that.

We walked down the steps. A walker that was sitting and leaning against a gate started to growl as it moved and stood up. I took a step back and held my breath as Rick started to beat its head in. It was gross. I'm really dreading when I'm going to have to kill one. 'Cause I know I'm going to have to at some point if I'm staying here.

Rick held his stomach. He looked like he was in pain, I mean of course he's in pain. He was shot! But still, ouch.

"You alright?" Morgan asked.

"Need a moment." Rick answered. If I was in his shoes I would need much more than just 'a moment'.

After a minute Rick stood back up and we walked the rest of the way to his house, "They're alive." Rick stated as we walked into his home, "My wife and son. At least they were when they left."

"How can you know?" Morgan asked. I know because I've seen this episode, "By the look of this place..."

"I found empty drawers in the bedroom. They packed some clothes. Not a lot. But enough to travel." Rick informed him.

"You know anybody could have broken in here and stolen clothes, right?" I stood by Duane by the doorway watching them talk.

"You see the framed photos on the walls?" Rick asked. Morgan looked around but there were none, "Neither do I. Some random thief take those too you think?" Rick opened up a drawer, "My photo albums, family pictures, all gone."

Morgan started laughing, "Photo albums. My wife-- same thing. There I am packin' survival gear, and she's grabbin' photo alb..." Morgan turned away looking close to tears. Rick looked at him sympathetically.

"They're in Atlanta, I bet." Duane said. Oh, no. They are not in Atlanta. But that is where he meets the group so he really needs to go there, doesn't he?

"That's right." Morgan said.

"Why there?" Rick asked.

"Refugee center." Morgan replied, "A huge one they said, before the broadcast stopped. Military protection, food, shelter. They told people to go there, said it'd be safest."

"Plus they got that disease place." Duane added.

"Center for Disease Control." Morgan said, "Said they were working out how to solve this thing." But they didn't solve anything. Not really. There is only one person left, Jenner. And he is kinda bat crap. But it is a necessary place to go. Cause if you think about it, it sets off a chain reaction of important events.  
Rick walked into the other room and grabbed his set of keys for the sheriff's department.

I really wanted to say something, but I can't, can I?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When we got there they said that they were going to shower. It got kind of awkward when they seemed to realize that I was a girl and they're all boys. I told them that it was fine and that they could shower and I would get one after them.  
They had told me to be careful and to yell if any of those things got in. I told them not to worry and that I had it handled, then they left. I waited in the Sheriff's office. I got bored and fidgety after maybe five minutes. Maybe I can find something useful? I started to look around a bit not really finding anything that I thought to be useful.

I looked under a desk and found a black backpack. I smiled. I could use this. I picked it up and looked through all of the pockets. It was completely empty. I shrugged, I can probably find some things to put in it later.

I sighed. Maybe I can find a way to let them know how infested Atlanta is. Even if I can't stop Rick from going there, maybe I can make the trip a bit easier. Maybe make it so he doesn't get attacked by a hole horde of walkers and get trapped in a tank. Something tells me we both wouldn't survive that little adventure.

Actually, is it possible that it doesn't have to just be the two of us? Could it be the four of us? Is there any chance that I could convince Morgan to come with us? It isn't like he or Duane have anything here after all. Maybe I can do that. Maybe. No matter how this works out, I have to try, I have to try to make a positive impact.  
Yeah, maybe I can somehow manage to get all of us to the store where he meets a few of the group members before something horrible happens. I mean, I don't wanna die and I definitely don't want anyone else to die.

Maybe I can get us to that store, then? Shouldn't be too hard, should it?

Duane walked into the room now in clean clothes, "What are you doing?" He asked walking over to me.

"Nothin' really." I told him, "I found a backpack." I held it up for him to see, "Nothin' else though. Not really anyway."

He nodded, "Do you even have anything to put inside of it?" He asked smiling.

"All of my worldly possessions are now gone to the world. I have no idea where much anything is anymore." I answered returning his smile.

"How did you survive by yourself?" He asked pretty blatantly.

I shrugged, "My dad died only a few days ago." I replied in a small voice.

He looked down at his shoes, "Sorry. I..." He wiped his nose, "I know what that's like."

'Yeah, but difference is you still have your dad.' I thought solemnly. But I just nodded and muttered a thanks. I shook my head and tried my best to will the tears not to come, it was my turn to look down at my combat boots, "He wasn't attacked by a walker or anything like that. It was a person. A bad man. He shot him... And I couldn't do anything about it." My voice cracked. Man, did this conversation take a turn fast.

We stayed like that for a moment in silence. Then Rick and Morgan walked in, "What's going on?" Morgan asked when he saw our expressions.

"We were just talkin'." I replied. I looked at Rick, "Do you know if there are any clothes I could wear?"

"You can probably find something in the locker room." Rick replied. I nodded and started to walk that way, "Just ask if you need any help finding anything."

"Yes sir. Thank you." I replied closing the door to the locker room. I sighed and started to look at the different names on the lockers. I opened the first one that had a female name. Inside I found a couple of plaid shirts, a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a deputy's uniform.

I bypassed the uniform but stuffed in all of the other clothing. I walked into the showers and turned one on. I stripped and walked under the water, relishing in the warmth of it.

When I got out maybe fifteen minutes later I put on one of the plaid shirts and the jeans. The shirt fit pretty well, but the jeans were a size to big. Luckily though, I found a belt. I had found a hair brush and a set of hair ties.

I walked back into the office, backpack in hand. Rick and Morgan were holding duffel bags full of guns and ammo while Duane was holding a large gun.

"Ready?" Rick asked.

I nodded my head, "Yeah." This is going to be exciting.


End file.
